


truce

by snottygrrl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-27
Updated: 2005-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snottygrrl/pseuds/snottygrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post-war, ron doesn't like the idea that harry and draco are having a baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	truce

**Author's Note:**

> **warnings:** flangst, mpreg  
>  **disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
>  This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.  
>  **author's notes:** this was converted from a ficlet originally written about people in RL (though the situation is fictious).i think it works pretty well in the world of hp.

Draco was tired, but happy. He'd had a successful morning shopping, which wasn't an easy task these days. Just getting Harry to agree that he could go out on his own this close to the due date, was a feat in and of itself. But there were still a few things the nursery had needed, and Harry was required at numerous ministry meetings this week, so he had finally relented.

Draco strolled down Diagon Alley to his favorite place for a spot of lunch, comforted by the thought of sitting for a while. His relief was short lived, however, when he heard the voice of The Weasel the moment he stepped inside.

When he and Harry had first gotten together, he and The Weasel had managed something close to a truce. They could be in the same room as long as neither spoke to the other and Harry paid equal attention to both of them (though not at the same time). It wasn't pretty, but it had worked. That was until Harry got Draco pregnant. The baby had tipped it for Weasley. Weasley and Harry had had a screaming match and hadn't spoken since.

Draco groaned inwardly. This was not what he needed right now, but he'd be damned if he was going to let that holy, little Gryffindor change his plans for lunch.

"Table for one?" inquired the host.

Draco nodded and followed him as he led the way through the crowded restaurant.  It was at that moment that The Weasel saw him.

"Well, if it isn't Harry's pregnant, Death Eater, rent boy," he said in a loud, ugly voice. "How long do you think he'll really keep you and that brat around?"

Draco ignored him and continued towards the table.

"What? Not going to answer? Still think you're too good for me?" Weasley growled, "About time someone cut you down to size."

It was too late when Draco realised Weasley had his wand hidden beneath the table and was throwing a tripping jinx. He was falling before he could even think of a counterspell, let alone get to his own wand. Draco was usually quite graceful, but the pregnancy had changed his center of gravity and made him ungainly. He tried to catch himself on an empty table, but it tilted with the impact of his weight. The next thing he felt was searing pain as his stomach rammed into the back of one of the chairs.

"The baby!" Draco gasped as his legs gave way and he crumpled to the floor.

There was a shocked silence as everyone stared.

It was Neville who reacted first, "Dean, firecall St Mungo's right now. Tell them what happened and get a medi-wizard over here. Ron, you stay with Draco and take care of him. Seamus and I will head back to the ministry and find Harry."

~*~

Ron sat miserably in the waiting room at St Mungo's. He couldn't erase the image of Malfoy's pale form, sprawled on the restaurant floor, clutching his belly. He suddenly felt a little sick to his stomach. _What had he done?_

He'd been so angry with Harry. It was one thing to shag the enemy, but quite another to want to procreate with a Slytherin, and not just any Slytherin, but the prince himself. Ron couldn't understand it, hadn't even wanted to. Yet his hatred and jealousy had drained away with Malfoy's anguished cry and now Ron desperately wanted, no, _needed_ , Malfoy and the baby to be okay. 

He wondered distractedly whether Harry would ever speak to him again. Sighing, he slumped forward in his chair, rested his head in his hands, and stared at the floor. Two scruffy shoes appeared in his line of vision.

"Where is he?" Harry's voice was laden with anger and touched with fear. Ron hadn't heard him sound like that since the war and he blanched at the realisation.

"They're examining him, said they'd let me know. I've been waiting for the medi-wizard." Ron chanced a look up and recoiled at the hatred in the familiar green eyes. "Oh god, Harry, I am so sorry," he croaked, his voice breaking. "So sorry about everything. Bloody hell, I miss you." He stopped and took a ragged breath. "All of this is so fucked."

Harry didn't answer at first, just stared at Ron, various emotions playing over his face. Then he dropped tiredly into the chair next to him. "Yeah, well. Thanks for taking care of him for me."

Ron nodded wretchedly, knowing that once Malfoy told Harry the full story Ron would be lucky if he remained alive.

"You the other father?" a motherly medi-witch asked Ron. He shook his head, still unable to speak.

"He's the friend," Harry replied for him, "I'm the father."

The healer turned towards Harry, the only sign that she recognised who she was talking to was a slight widening of her eyes as they flicked towards the famous scar. "You are very lucky. Both Mr. Malfoy and baby appear to be fine. He's going to have a nasty bruise and be very sore, but it doesn't look like there will be any permanent damage. We'll keep him overnight just to be sure, but you should be able to take him home tomorrow."

Ron let out a breath that he hadn't realised he was holding. He really wasn't sure what he would have done if he'd hurt the baby or Malfoy seriously.

Harry sagged with relief. "Thank God. Can we see him?" he asked.

The medi-witch smiled. "Of course you can."

Ron trailed after Harry, knowing he was done for the minute Malfoy opened his mouth, but needing to make sure the pointy-faced git was okay with his own two eyes. As it turned out, actually seeing Malfoy did nothing to alleviate his desolation. He looked horribly vulnerable as he lay in the bed, eyes closed, brow creased in pain.

Harry moved immediately to his side, taking Malfoy's hand and gently brushing the fringe off of his forehead. "Draco? Love?"

"Harry? Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you're here." There was more emotion in Malfoy's voice than Ron had ever heard, before, and he was keenly aware that he shouldn't be seeing the private side of a Slytherin. "I thought we were going to lose her, Harry. I don't know what I would have done."

"Shhh. It'll be alright. I'm here, now," Harry soothed. "She's fine. We won't let anything happen."

Ron shifted uncomfortably. He was an intruder and had no right to be here.

The movement caught Malfoy's attention, his eyes sweeping past Harry and focusing on Ron. Surprise flared in their grey depths before they narrowed. His tone had all of his usual regal disdain as he asked, "What are _you_ doing here?"

Feeling like a first year caught out after curfew, Ron attempted to answer. "I just wanted to … I had to … I … " he stopped and said the only thing that really mattered. "I'm so sorry Malfoy. Sorry for everything." Ron was beginning to feel like that was his personal mantra for the day. "I never meant … I mean, I didn't think … oh bollocks, I wouldn't blame you if -"

Harry broke in, "He is here because I asked him to be. I've missed him and he watched over you today until I could get here and …" He hesitated, then said decisively, "And we're just not going to fight anymore."

Malfoy turned his full attention to Ron. "That really was you sitting beside me at the café and not some horrible, pain-induced hallucination then." Malfoy's tone gave nothing away and Ron nodded numbly. He continued, "It was you that kept telling me to hold on, that Harry was coming and everything would be all right. You, that made sure the healers didn't do anything without my consent."

Again, Ron bobbed his head in the affirmative. Malfoy paused, studying Ron shrewdly. Ron's guts were twisting around themselves, waiting for the axe to fall. He pictured all manner of awful things Harry would do when he found out the truth, wondering whether he, himself, would be sent to Azkaban, or if Harry would be after he killed Ron.

He started when Malfoy spoke again. "And you aren't going to fight with Harry or me anymore? Might even be nice to me in public? Hang out with the family? Maybe watch the baby once in a while?"

They were more statements than questions. Hope flared in Ron's chest as he remembered he was talking to a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor. Slytherins weren't interested in fairness or justice. They understood a beholden enemy was much more valuable than an imprisoned one.

This time as he nodded, he raised his eyes to meet Malfoy's. Ron couldn't read everything in his steely gaze, but he could see that he was being given a chance, and he'd better not bollocks it up, or the consequences would be dire. That, and that there would be an awful lot of babysitting in his future.

Ron never thought he'd be so glad about the chance to change a nappy.

"Well, that will mean a lot to Harry, make him very happy." Malfoy's voice softened as he shifted his attention back to his mate. "Won't it, Love?"

Approval glowed in Harry's face as he leaned towards his lover. "Yes, it will," He answered before capturing his mouth in a heated kiss.

Ron cleared his throat. "Well, I guess I'd better be going and let the other guys know that everything is okay," he said too loudly.

Harry smiled up at him. "See you tomorrow maybe?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure." Ron grinned, then added guiltily, "Hope you feel better soon, Malfoy."

Malfoy waved in acknowledgement, the movement causing him to bite back a groan.

As Ron turned and left the room, he heard Harry asked worriedly, "Can't they give you a potion for the pain, Draco?"

Malfoy's response was tired. "Wouldn't let them. It's'not good for the baby."

"But surely there must be something - "

The sound of their conversation dwindled as Ron loped down the corridor, relief crashing through him as he thought about what a narrow escape they'd all had. He knew Malfoy hadn't let him off by any means, and that he would have to do a lot to pay back for what he'd done today. But he deserved much worse, and in time, perhaps, he and Malfoy could actually be friends. Ron shook his head. He must be going soft if he was hoping to become mates with the Prince of Slytherin.

Chuckling to himself as he stepped out into the bright sunshine, Ron took a deep breath and set off to find Neville, Dean and Seamus and tell them what had happened.

~fin

**Author's Note:**

>  **additional author's notes:** after jumping into mpreg with both feet this week, i've decided you can catagorise people into one of four groups basd on their reactions to it.   
>  the first group is the end of the spectrum that hates it. they are either squicked or annoyed by mpreg and don't want to get anywhere near it unless, perhaps, to poke it with a sharp stick in the fervent hope that it will go away.  
> the second group is the other end, a cheery group that adores mpreg and is trying to combat the bad press it often gets.  
> the third group consists of those readers that just love a well written story, and aren't concerned if the story includes mpreg, veela!draco, vampire!harry, bondage!snape or all of the above.  
> what i didn't realise before i posted my story, is that there is a fourth group that consists of readers who love mpreg, but feel slightly ashamed, as if they've had to admit that they like to read paperbacks with buxom women swooning over men with long hair on the cover.
> 
> it is to these folk in the fourth group who i dedicate this little mpreg fic to, and remind them that it is not only okay, but wonderous, to be open and find pleasure in different things. (((hugs)))


End file.
